


I Love You, You Know?

by HazzilyEverAfter



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: (But Only A Little Bit - Harry Just Feels Bad For Stuffing Them Up), Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Basically Harry Sends Louis A Letter Explaining His Stuff-Ups, Crying, Harry And Louis Have Broken Up, Letters, M/M, Self-Hatred, it's quite sad really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-12
Updated: 2016-01-12
Packaged: 2018-05-13 10:27:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5704300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HazzilyEverAfter/pseuds/HazzilyEverAfter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Open it when we’re not such an open wound, anymore. Maybe that’s today for you, I don’t know.</p><p>Maybe that’s never.</p><p>I’m so sorry, Louis."</p><p>Louis isn’t ready. Louis isn’t ready, but he needs to know, and he’s never been patient. So he holds his breath, and before he can second guess himself, he opens it.</p><p>OR</p><p>After a bad breakup with Harry, Louis receives a letter from him in the mail.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Love You, You Know?

**Author's Note:**

> Just as a forewarning...
> 
> This is pretty angsty, and at the end there is no specified fixing of Harry and Louis's relationship. As it says in the tags, the ending is open, so feel free to make up your own storyline if you desperately want them to live happily ever after! Harry's also a little self-deprecating in this, so just be careful!
> 
> I don't even know how this happened, I was just reading something really sad so I decided to let it out by writing this, I guess... oops?
> 
> But anyways... I hope you like it! x

Louis finds the letter in his post box, camouflaged between all the bills and magazines that he’s let pile up, after he’d lost the motivation to drag himself out of bed every morning.

His hands are shaking as he picks it up, because he could recognise that handwriting anywhere, all loopy and round and beautiful.

It’s Harry’s.

All that’s written on the outside of the envelope is a few lines, but it’s enough to make Louis’s world spin, and he needs to grab onto the back of a chair so hard that his fingernails dig in to steady himself.

_Open it when we’re not such an open wound, anymore. Maybe that’s today for you, I don’t know._

_Maybe that’s never._

_I’m so sorry, Louis._

Louis isn’t ready. Louis isn’t ready, but he needs to know, and he’s never been patient. So he holds his breath, and before he can second guess himself, he opens it.

 

xxx

 

_Dear Louis,_

_I know that you probably don’t want to hear from me right now – or maybe not ever – but let this be the last thing I give to you. Then I’ll leave you alone, I promise._

_Louis, this is for you. I know that our breakup wasn’t clean; that it tore us apart at the seams, and for me, I don’t think I’ll ever fully stitch myself back together. But this – this is so you can, because you probably have a lot of questions that I was too much of a coward - always too much of a coward - to answer._

_So this is for you._

_It’s my explanation for why I acted the way I did; why I made such stupid, stupid decisions – decisions that caused me to lose you. And it’s not an excuse, I promise – there’s nothing that can make what I did right – and it’s not a plea for forgiveness, because if there’s one thing I know, it’s that I certainly don’t deserve it._

_This is just so I can try to help – because even though we’re over, I still can’t seem to live knowing that you’re hurting. And you are, Louis – you are hurting, because I asked Niall, and he told me you haven’t been out of your flat in days. Please don’t do this to yourself. You and I both know that I’m not worth it._

_So, anyway. I’m going to try to explain everything, okay? And some of it will be painful, but I’m going to be honest here, and not everything I did was pure, or good, or right. I’m beginning to think that nothing I ever did was, because looking back on it now, everything I’ve ever done since meeting you has been selfish. I just didn’t want to lose you, and maybe I held on too tight; wanted too much; was too paranoid that I wasn’t enough, because look where we are, now. You’re certainly not mine, and I’ve definitely lost you – and it’s no one’s fault but my own. I don’t have anyone to blame, and I’m not trying to find someone to blame it on, either, because somewhere between the late-night kisses and early-morning cuddles, I fell in love with you._

_I fell head over feet, and maybe one fall wasn’t enough, I don’t know, but I found that again and again and again, I fell for you. When I watched you dance around the kitchen in nothing but your boxers, I fell for you. When I watched you yawn and rub your eyes in front of the television, while we were cuddled together watching movie marathons in the middle of the night, I fell for you. When I watched you yelling and screaming at me with tears carving tracks down your cheeks, I fell for you, even as I yelled and screamed and cried right back._

_Over and over and over, I fell for you. And I don’t think I’ve ever stopped._

_And I never learn, do I, because now that I’ve lost you, I’m still being selfish. We’re both battered, and broken, and maybe we’ll never be fixed, but I don’t find myself regretting our time together. Does that make me a bad person? Maybe. But I can’t help it._

_I play the four months we were together again and again in my head, and I think of all the ways I could have made them better so that maybe you would’ve stayed; all the things I should have said. Because I never did, did I? I never told you. I never told you, but god, I was so, so, so in love with you; I loved you with everything I had, and you deserved to know._

_I’ve added it to the list of the many mistakes I made._

_I was just so scared. Because although I never told you, you never told me me, either. And you were just so amazing – everything I’d ever wanted and more, god, so much more – that I was so certain that you could have anyone you wanted, so why were you with me? It didn’t make sense, so I was paranoid all the time, and you definitely sensed it – that I was hiding something big, something important – from you. It added even more fuel to the explosion that was our fallout, maybe._

_But looking back, we were both so reckless and stupid, you know? We were so, so happy, riding on the high that was our love, that we thought that together, we could conquer the highest mountains and the deepest valleys and the widest oceans and the strongest obstacles. We were so confident in us that we never really even sat down and talked about it – talked about what we were; what we wanted from our relationship, since it turns out that we weren’t on the same page, huh? We weren’t even really reading the same book. So, one fight was all it took to blow it all up in our faces._

_We dove straight in, and we were so ignorant; too innocent, because we never really knew what it meant; how much it took to be in a relationship. Or at least a healthy one. We just dove headfirst – or maybe heart first in my case – into taking on the world together, before we even knew what the world actually meant. And it really fucked us up good, didn’t it?_

_It fucked me up good._

_And I’m rambling, now, so I’m going to stop. Because you deserve better; always deserved better; and now that I have the chance to explain, I’m still stuffing it up, god._

_Okay. From when we first met, yeah? Okay._

_It started as just a normal night out. I was out drinking pints with Niall and Liam, and dancing in the neon lights that made up the dancefloor, when I met you. I’m not even sure how exactly we were introduced; I was too drunk the next morning to remember, but I could recall clearly seeing your blue blue eyes, crinkling as you smiled at me, and I was wondering if I’d died and gone to heaven, and you were an angel taking me to the afterlife, and then I found that I didn’t care. Because if I got to spend eternity watching you, then it wasn’t long enough._

_You were the most gorgeous man I’d ever seen in my life._

_And then your voice, god, when I heard it I was sure that I’d actually died and gone to heaven, because it was light and raspy and perfect; so different from my own, but I’d rather hear your voice over mine, anyways._

_And then there was kissing, and I somehow managed to tumble you into my bed, and to this day I wonder if it’s the greatest achievement I’ve ever made in my life. Probably._

_Definitely._

_And then in the morning I made pancakes and you ate them and I thought, wow I can’t believe you’re still here. Because one night stands don’t stay for breakfast, but again I was just guessing, because we never talked about that, either. I just went with the flow that you created, following behind you like a lost puppy and eager to please anyone as long as it pleased you._

_We should have talked about it, Louis. But I don’t blame you that we never did, because you made me so happy, and I was willing to skip all the conversations in the world if it meant that I had you. And I did have you. For a while, at least, I had you so wholly in my arms, so fully in my flat, that I forgot at times that we were two different people with two different ways of thinking. That probably lead to our downfall, too._

_But over days, weeks, months, you somehow embedded yourself in my life, and I let you – I encouraged you, even – because I just wanted so so badly for us to be permanent._

_For us to be forever._

_You met Niall and Liam, and I met Zayn, and somehow our two different groups of friends melded so seamlessly into one big, happy family, that I was convinced that we would eventually, too. Become a family, that is._

_And for three months, it was perfect. We went on dinner dates, and bought each other roses, and you basically moved into my flat. Your toothbrush was in my bathroom, your clothes were in my wardrobe, and you were in my life._

_It was the best three months I’ve ever known._

_But then you found out about the application I’d sent in, for a job in L.A that I’d always wanted. And then we had our first real fight – the first fight where I couldn’t win over your forgiveness with an exaggerated pout and a cuddle._

_Remember how it went, Lou? I told you about it, how I’d gotten the job in L.A, and I was grinning so widely my jaw ached, clutching the papers in my hand._

_But you weren’t grinning back. You had this funny expression on your face, kind of like a cross between a look of betrayal and shock, but mainly hurt. There was so much hurt. In the glossy film over your eyes, and the sad tilt to your mouth, and the way your shoulders sagged forwards._

_Just so, so, so much hurt._

_And then there wasn’t._

_Then there was just anger, and god, were you angry. And I was so stupid, Lou – I didn’t understand why you weren’t happy for me, why you weren’t jumping into my arms and giving me a smooch on the check like you usually did when I had good news._

_I understand now, though._

_Because it wasn’t good news, was it? It wasn’t good at all, because it was the starting point of our downward spiral, the starting point of how everything went to shit._

_I’d sent the application in before we’d met, and I’d basically forgotten about it, so I didn’t tell you. But when I received the letter of confirmation, I didn’t even think about what it meant. I just automatically, stupidly, innocently thought that I’d be moving to L.A, and you’d be coming with me. Because that’s how it’d been for the past three months. We were glued at the hip and nobody could separate us, but that was different, wasn’t it? That was trips to the grocery store, or the nearest coffee shop, or Niall or Zayn or Liam’s house; not halfway across the world, separated from London by so much land and sky and ocean._

_And you didn’t come, did you? You couldn’t, because you had a business to run, and I was so stupidly ignorant to have overlooked that – to have thought you’d drop all of it just to follow me._

_But I had to go, Lou. I had to go, because at the time, it was all I wanted aside from you. And I think you knew that, so you told me to go. To move to L.A and chase my dreams, because even then, you were more selfless than I could ever be._

_So I did. I moved, and I promised to call every Friday, so we could chat about our lives and update each other on the newest changes, but we never broke it off. Which was good, because I was sure that I would have stayed in London with you if you’d made me choose between my job and us._

_But you were too good for me, Lou. You let me have both, and it got to my head – because I suddenly had everything I wanted, and I became a little reckless._

_Every time I called, I started pushing. I kept asking you to come over, to really be with me, to ditch everything in London so we could physically be together._

_And it was too much. Of course it was, but I was so satisfied with everything – so confident that I had everything – that I didn’t really realise it could change. And yet, we still hadn’t sat down and talked about it; talked about what we really were, and how much we wanted from each other. So I neglected you._

_I stopped calling after a few weeks, because all we seemed to talk about was whether you should or shouldn’t move to L.A to be with me, anyways. A lot of the time, it resolved to arguments._

_So I stopped calling on Fridays for three weeks, going out with my new colleagues and mates in America to get smashed instead. I was making friends, and I was so happy with how my life was turning out, that I never really stopped and thought about how you could have been staying up late, waiting for me to call. It didn’t even occur to me._

_I was so stupid, Lou._

_I wasn’t responsible enough to treat you properly, like you deserved._

_And then on the third week after I’d stopped calling, I was stumbling back to my apartment in L.A, drunk in the early hours of the morning, to see you sitting against my door with your head in your hands and a suitcase by your side._

_And then you looked up, and there were tears rolling down your cheeks, sliding along your jawline, dripping onto your legs, and I still had no idea what was happening; what this probably meant for us._

_And then you told me that I wasn’t paying you enough attention, but all I could focus on was the little hitches in your breath, and the rattle of your lungs as you tried to breathe through your tears._

_Maybe it’s because I was drunk, or maybe it’s because I was distracted, or maybe, probably, it’s because I was just so, so stupid and even more selfish; because then I made the biggest mistake of my life._

_Because I told you that I was trying my hardest to make room for you, but I was busy with work and settling down into my new life and my new mates._

_And then you started screaming._

_“BULLSHIT!”_

_Do you remember, Lou?_

_“YOU’RE JUST OUT GETTING SMASHED WITH YOUR NEW FRIENDS WHEN YOU SAID YOU’D BE CALLING ME! YOU PROMISED!” And then you can’t scream anymore because you’re having enough trouble just getting air into your lungs._

_I remember._

_I don’t think I could ever forget._

_And then, because I was scared of where this was going, if we were crumbling, if you were breaking up with me; I just said the first thing that could come to find. I screamed it._

_“YOU’RE NOT MY NUMBER ONE PRIORITY, LOUIS!”_

_And god, your face. I still have nightmares, sometimes, because your face just fell so completely, and you looked so broken that I needed more than anything; more than air and water and my goddamned job; to touch you, but I wasn’t sure if I was allowed to anymore._

_And then you’re wrenching out a sob, and grabbing your suitcase, and running away from me. Running out of my life, and I did nothing to stop you, even though I knew that this was it; that you’d had enough of me, just like I’d feared, and I was just frozen to the spot, staring at the swinging door to the stairs that you’d disappeared through._

_That was the last time I saw you._

_And I know that you’ve probably moved all of your stuff out of my flat back in London; the toothbrush from the bathroom and the clothes from my wardrobe; just like you’ve removed yourself from my life._

_After you left that night, I sat and lost myself in my thoughts for a long long while. Because although I’d always told myself that if ever I needed to choose between anything else and you, I’d always choose you… that’s not the case of what happened, is it?_

_You’d given me a chance to choose between our relationship and my job, and somehow, I’d ended up choosing the option that wasn’t you. And now you were gone, and I realised that we still never talked about it. We never laid down all our cards, because if we had then maybe our relationship wouldn’t have crashed and burned._

_Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking, I don’t know._

_But I go back to work on Monday, and when I decline offers to go out on Friday, nobody bats an eyelid. Nobody asks if I’m alright, and when I start to turn pale and bags start forming under my eyes from lack of sleep due to thinking about you, nobody even notices._

_Or if they do, they certainly don’t care._

_And I realise, then. That if I fell sick, there’d be nobody to mother me until I got better, like Liam would. That if I felt like a quiet night in, there’d be nobody to offer me his paints and a mate to just enjoy the silence with, like Zayn would. That if I didn’t feel like cooking, there’d be nobody to knock down my door with Chinese takeaway in hand, like Niall would._

_And that if I felt lonely, there’d definitely be nobody to cuddle me until I wasn’t, like you would._

_That’s when I decided._

_I didn’t want my job in L.A anymore._

_It’d lost its enticement after our breakup, anyway – it didn’t seem that amazing, without you backing me up all the way from London. And I was missing the boys, too._

_So I quit. And I’m flying back to London._

_By the time you read this, I’ll definitely already be back._

_And I realise, now – how I took you for granted, as a sure thing in my life. Because you’re not, and I had no right to assume so, especially since we never really talked to each other about what page we’re on in the Great Book of Relationships, and maybe we were just reading different sections of the same page all along._

_Or maybe you were still reading the blurb when I’d already finished the book, I don’t know._

_I don’t think I know anything, anymore._

_And we still haven’t talked about it all, have we?_

_It’s bittersweet, that._

_That from the start to the end of our relationship, we never said a word. I still don’t know what you really thought of me – if I was someone you’d willingly spend the rest of forever with, or if I was just a fun experience, or something._

_I hope not._

_And I’m still being selfish, aren’t I?_

_Because even after you’ve made it clear that we’re over, I’m still sending you letters in an effort to explain, so that your impression of me can hopefully change for the better. But then again, I’ve always been shameless when it comes to loving you._

_So I’m sorry, Lou. I’m sorry that I was so stupid, and ignorant, and selfish. I’m sorry that we didn’t work out. And I hope you find someone who’ll make you happy - god knows you deserve it, after all the shit I put you through. And I guess what I’m trying to say is; I hope you find your happily ever after, even if it’s not with me._

_Because I love you, you know?_

_Take care._

_H. xx_

xxx

 

Louis blinks, and there’s tears staining the paper. He sits down on the chair and lets loose, just lets himself _feel_ ; cries until he’s drained and he can’t cry anymore, clutching the letter tightly to his chest; cradling it, almost.

Cries until there’s only one thought on repeat in his head – one sentence that he never said, but should've. Definitely, definitely should've.

Four absent words that cost him everything.

_I love you, too._

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> My main [Tumblr](https://hazzilyeverafter.tumblr.com/) and my side blog for [One Direction](https://hazzilyeverafter-onedirection.tumblr.com/).


End file.
